Faith in Happiness
by Elle's Bells 88
Summary: Hermione abandons the wizarding world to avoid having to deal with her parents' death. Ron finds her and attempts to rescue her. I know it's a tired plot but I think this one has something more. It takes place in the unfinished Heir universe Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own only the plot and Mr. Lehman and Martha Thomas. The rest of the characters belong to JK Rowling, either appearing in the series or Quidditch Through the Ages. The song "Have a Little Faith in Me" belongs to John Hiatt. Also, at some point you may think that I've totally abandoned canon for no apparent reason; this is not entirely true. The end of "Heir" will change the plot and this, while not a continuation of that unfinished story, is in the same AU "universe".

Hermione slammed the door behind her, shaking off the cool rain droplets that were clinging to her skin. She deposited her bag and keys by the door along with her coat, gloves and scarf. These created a soaking, dripping mass in the foyer that wouldn't be noticed till the next morning which, when noticed, would instigate profuse amounts of profanity.

With much effort, she lugged herself to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water and a glass of wine. Balancing both glasses in one hand she grabbed an apple and walked into the living room. It was dark outside; it seemed that she never saw her house in sunlight. She came home long after it had gone down and left before it fully rose.

Crookshanks rested in his corner of the couch, purring softly like Hermione's radiator. She switched on the TV and landed on the evening news which she had on to ease the silence of another lonely night.

Hermione's flat was bare. She hadn't even bothered to unpack all of her bags so random packages of lord-knows-what speckled the small space. The walls were grimy with an eggshell backdrop and the carpets were an indeterminate shade of gray. All of her furniture was either "borrowed" off old friends or bought at garage sales.

After the Second Rise ended with Voldemort's narrow defeat, the wizarding world was left with no one to blame for the destruction left in the war's wake. Their dear Minister of Magic was gone, Cornelius Fudge had also passed, Albus Dumbledore, gone so, by default, the three musketeers were the likely candidates for scapegoating. They had been, after all, the closest living people to the conflict, so it was assumed that they were somehow to blame.

They couldn't do much to Harry because he was, well, Harry Potter, not to mention that his two guardians would make them rue the day. Ron had firm roots in the wizarding community; but Hermione, well Hermione was perfect. She was an outsider with no real connection to magical London aside from her Hogwarts attendance. Rather than have them chase her out, Hermione vanished without a trace and found herself in a small, Scottish town with no money and very few belongings. Truth be told, she didn't really need the anger of the wizarding public, her parents' death was reason enough.

So Scotland was where she remained. She couldn't get a job in the magical community because Ron and Harry would find her so she got a muggle job which quickly turned into muggle job_s_. It was tough to get enough money to keep herself in her flat and keeping herself busy was the best way to take her mind off of everything. As a typist, Hermione worked in a small office in the town square. Her boss, Mr. Lehman, was a corpulent, ill-tempered, self-absorbed, male chauvinist pig. She earned a mere stipend and had to work as a waitress at a pub down the street in the evenings to make ends meet.

The news contained very little of interest. The two newscasters, "Jen" and "Bobby" made inane jokes that were, supposedly, over everyone else's heads. The weather man once again forecasted rain for the entire week. Hermione sipped her way through the whole bottle of wine, which was supposed to last her the whole week.

Eventually, Hermione switched off the TV and brought the glasses and apple core back to the kitchen. She deposited all three into the sink and continued on to her bedroom. She pulled on a nightdress and brushed her teeth before flopping down on the mattress that sat in the middle of her floor. Crookshanks hopped up and snuggled in beside her, just another night in paradise.

"_When the road gets dark  
And you can no longer see  
Just let my love throw a spark baby  
And have a little faith in me"_

Four years, it had been four bloody years since she'd last seen a familiar face. Something had been deeply brewing in the hearts of both Ron and Hermione but the war had changed everything. They could no longer tiptoe around some inconsequential childhood crush. They'd seen people die for God's sake! They'd thrust their feelings aside, only allowing room for one love, the death of Voldemort. Hermione would be lying to herself if she said she didn't still have those feeling, but no one else really cared anyway.

At around five in the morning, Hermione was roused by the annoying sound of her telephone ringing angrily in its cradle. "Hello" she mumbled sleepily.

"Hermione?" the voice was incredibly familiar and she found herself jolting awake.

"Who's this?" she asked hurriedly.

"Herms, don't hang up okay. I can't believe this; it's amazing."

"Who the Hell is this?" she asked again, a tremor coming to her voice.

"Herms, it's Ron. I-"

"How did you get this number?" she interjected.

"You're listed," Ron answered, not fully believing it himself. Hermione's insides squirmed. Of course she was listed! Why else had they sent her a phone book she never used? She couldn't believe her stupidity. "Herms, it's great to hear your voice again. I, we've been looking for you for six years now. I always check phonebooks and things whenever I come into a town but I don't think I ever fully believed it would work. Bloody Hell, it's just so great to hear your voice."

"Yeah, well, just-your mind-forget it Ron. You won't hear from me again okay? Don't try calling again; I won't pick up." She dropped the phone unceremoniously into its cradle and buried her head in her pillow. Up until that moment, she had at least been able to delude herself into thinking that she was okay. Ron's call had brought to light the fact that she was absolutely, completely, and utterly miserable and all she wanted was her old life back. Unfortunately, that was not possible. The death of her parents and countless others of importance prevented that from ever becoming a reality.

The next few days played out sluggishly. She acted even more morose than usual because, for that brief minute before she spoke on the phone, she had caught a glimpse of what her life could have been. She also found herself more wary than before. She half expected Ron or Harry to jump out from behind a filing cabinet or from under a table. Neither did though and she was alone again, more depressed than ever before.

It was a particularly stormy night. Hermione stumbled through the door of her block of flats and up the stairs. She fumbled for her keys and fit one into the lock, only to discover that the door was already unlocked. She heard stirring and gripped her umbrella tightly in her fist. As she swung the door open she raised the umbrella with a mighty roar, almost hitting a very surprised Ron Weasley over the head. "Hermione!" he yelped in surprise. "I've been waiting for you for hours." He caught her in a tight embrace that quite caught her off guard.

Half from fatigue and half from relief, she collapsed in his arms, dry sobs racking her body. "Come now Herms, it's alright," he murmured, supporting her over to the couch.

"I-I-I" she managed before falling again against his chest.

"Shh, shhh, I've something marvelous to tell you," he whispered, "But first, you must eat. You're so thin!" He sounded amazingly like Mrs. Weasley. "I got here and was going to fix you some dinner but you have absolutely nothing in your kitchen! I went over to the market and got a couple things. You like pesto don't you?" She nodded and allowed herself to be lead into the kitchen where a sauce pan sat bubbling merrily on the stove. "I know tea doesn't normally go with pasta but you look like you need something hot." A few moments later Hermione and Ron sat at the depressingly scraggly table (a very old, brown card table) with paper plates of pasta, beer steins of tea and a mixing bowl of bread.

"So, what I have to tell you. Remember when, right after the war there was that rumor that people were after us?" Hermione nodded uncertainly. "Well, it was true, I won't deny that, but it was mobilized by Draco Malfoy and a bunch of other family members of those we'd thrown in prison. Anyway, a few months after you left, the whole thing was sorted out. Atticus Croaker, he was an Unspeakable before the war, was officially named the Minister of Magic. We've exhausted every lead, every tiny clue to find you Herms. It's all over; you can come home with me."

Hermione dropped her fork mid bite and cradled her aching head in her hands. "It wasn't just that," she muttered. Ron breathed deeply.

"I know Herms but you're not happy here, I can see that. If you were, things would be different. I could probably leave you here and just accept it but you're not happy. At least if you came back we could help you. You deserve a good job, you deserve family and friends." Hermione sighed deeply, tears spilling down into her tea.

"_And when the tears you cry  
Are all you can believe  
Just give these lovin' arms a try baby  
And have a little faith in me"_

"I wish it were that simple," she said softly, fingering a rip in the tablecloth.

"It is that simple Herms."

"I've just lost so much that I can't see-"

"Hermione, look at what you've lost coming here. You're living in a run down flat; you're barely eating. You haven't got any friends here; Hermione, this isn't you. We've all lost people. I know your loss is particularly acute but Herms, but we can help you. There's a job waiting for you if you just come back. We could leave tonight." Hermione bit her lip. Never before had she wanted something so much yet been so averse to it.

"_Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me"_

"Hermione, could you come back for me?" She looked down at her hands. He loved her, and he wanted her back. A resolution grew in her stomach like an orb of light and spread out through her body, warming her cold feelings and bringing her back to life.

"Yes, I could come back for you," she murmured, barely audibly. A grin split through his face and he pulled her into his arms. He pulled her lips to his and her warmth spread more quickly, turning into an electrical current that shot through her veins like fire. Her icy lips melted into his. Her icy fingers melted onto his neck. It was an eternal millisecond before their lips parted. "I love you," she spoke with a quiet assuredness that had not belonged to the new Hermione.

"I love you too," he said. He had not changed much over the years. He was slightly more muscular than before, having lost that lankiness that belongs to youth. His hair was floppy and he had grown into his features (ears not included). His eyes were still the old chocolate brown she had loved so much but they had grown a deepness that he had not had in his early years. "So, should we leave tonight?" he asked, his old eagerness still there.

"Tomorrow, we'll leave tomorrow. I have to tell my landlord and my bosses and-"

"I've got the picture Hermione," Ron laughed. "Now eat." she turned back to her food, happier than she had ever thought possible.

"So, how is everyone?"

"They're good. Fred finally got married to Angelina. Their wedding was last March. Percy got married two years ago and, surprisingly, she's not a total bore and has done loads to pull that stick from out his arse. She's the Keeper for the Pride of Portree, Meghan. They have one child, Alice. She's three," he said this last part with raised eyebrows. "Ginny and Harry are still dancing around the whole marriage thing; I think Harry's been hoping we'd find you. George is still very much the bachelor as was Charlie till a couple months ago. He and Tonks-you remember her don't you?-well anyway, they started dating and have gotten rather serious. Bill and Fleur are still together though they haven't got any children yet; Mum's ready to have kittens over it. Sirius is still dating Hestia Jones. Remus is engaged to his girlfriend, Agatha Chubb she-"

"She's an expert on ancient wizard objects isn't she?"

"So you didn't change completely I see," Ron snorted, grinning at her. She gave him a forced but non-the-less sincere smile.

"And what about you?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer, dreading that he had found someone and she had just, single-handedly, mucked up everything for him.

"I never found the right person I suppose. You, well, you know Hermione, you're the only person I ever imagined growing old with." His face went scarlet immediately.

_"When your secret heart  
Cannot speak so easily  
Come here darlin'  
From a whisper start  
Have a little faith in me. _

_When your back's against the wall  
Just turn around, you will see  
I will catch you, I will catch your fall  
Just have a little faith in me"_

The evening passed much less strained than either had expected and Hermione found herself smiling more than she had in years. With everything washed and cleaned up, however, the discomfort set in. "So, I suppose I should-"

"Go back to your hotel?" Hermione asked too quickly, wincing. "I mean, you don't have to-I-"

"Well, I-we could, um, I suppose I probably should. . . I could come by tomorrow morning, early. I could bring breakfast and. . . "

"Yeah, or you could kip on the couch or, well, there's a-"

"Or you could come back to the hotel, I mean, I have two beds and I'm only using one. . ."

"That would be nice actually," Hermione said finally. "Just let me collect some things." She left him standing in the doorway while she hurried to her dresser, flinging her least ragged looking ensemble into an old grocery bag along with her nightdress and delicates. She emerged, flushed and grinning sheepishly. Ron looked good, she had to admit. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He had pulled on his black trench coat and was examining the cuff with apparent fascination. "I'm ready," she murmured, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Oh, good." He took the grocery bag from her as she pulled on her own ratty jacket and grabbed her purse. "There's a safe apparation point around the corner. I'll tell you where-"

"Um, I don't, well you see, I threw away-I don't have my wand any longer," she spit out, tears threatening to escape.

"Wow," Ron breathed, pulling her close to him as they stepped out onto the street, an icy rain pelting their skin. "It's okay Herms, really. We'll just do side-long, that is, if you trust me."

"I trust you completely," she whispered into his chest. She pulled closer to him, absorbing his smell-a mixture of soap, cinnamon and citrus. "With everything."

By the time they got to the hotel, it was nearing midnight. They hurried passed the reception desk and up the rickety staircase. Ron searched his pockets and finally found the little key. "It's not big but it's warm," Ron said as he led her in. "The lavatory's right over there, if you want to, you know," Ron blushed again and busied himself with his coat. Hermione nodded and deposited her own coat on the bed. She washed her face at the sink and pulled on her nightdress. When she emerged, Ron had on an oversized Chudley Cannons T-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama bottoms.

"Is this bed mine?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Ron nodded and she crawled in.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" Hermione shook her head. She had fully intended to stay awake but as soon as her head hit the soft, clean pillow, she was out. An hour later, Ron switched off the radio and looked over at her in the lamplight. She looked perfect, loose tendrils spilling across the pillow, her red lips pursed slightly and her long lashes almost touching the pillow.

_"Well, I've been loving you for such a long, long time baby  
Expecting nothing in return  
Just for you to have a little faith in me  
You see time, time is our friend  
For you and me there is no end  
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me."_

Hermione woke to the sound of voices at the door. For a moment, she didn't know where she was and thought that the night before had just been one magnificent dream. Slowly, the fog around her brain cleared and she was able to recognize an eerily familiar voice other than Ron's. "Why didn't you floo me last night?"

"We got here late and I didn't want you bursting in. She's in a bad way Harry. I've never seen her like this. She doesn't even _have _her wand anymore, let alone use it. I don't know; it just felt right."

"Wow, she doesn't even have her wand? That doesn't sound like her at all. She looks so thin too; your mum's going to have something to say about that."

"I'm hoping we'll be able to avoid my mother for a bit. She's not ready to be mobbed."

"Well where's she going to stay Ron?"

"Where's she going to stay? Come on Harry, think. I'm not used to being the smart and rational one. Come on, it's not that hard; she'll stay at our flat."

"But we've only two bedrooms. You don't really expect her to sleep on the couch do you?"

"Of course not! I'll give up my room for the time being. You should have seen the hell hole she was living in before. Anything would be an improvement."

"I'm just glad you found her Ron. I was beginning to loose hope."

"Me too." Hermione could feel their steady stare on her and she supposed now would be as good a time as any to join the conversation. She opened her eyes and drank in the sight of them. It was almost like old times except that both were looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension.

"'Morning," she mumbled, pushing herself up on her elbows to get a better look at Harry. He was slightly taller, more muscular and had different glasses but he still had the same perpetually tousled hair.

"Hermione!" Harry hurried over and threw his arms around her, causing her to loose her balance and fall back on the bed. "I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too. Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked, returning the hug. Harry sat down on the side of the bed, blushing profusely.

"She's back in London. The minute Ron flooed me, I left. I'm actually supposed to be helping her move into her new flat."

"Oh. Wait, what time is it?"

"Around half passed eight." Ron answered, glancing at his wrist watch. "Why? Wait, Herms, what are you doing?" Hermione had jumped out of bed and was frantically looking around for her bag of clothes.

"I was supposed to be at work and hour ago! He's going to kill me!"

"Who's going to kill you?" Harry asked, now standing as well.

"Who else? My boss, Mr. Lehman."

"Herms, you were only going to go in to quit. What's it matter if you get sacked?" Ron put in.

"I know but I didn't want to do it this way I-"

"Hermione, you have to calm down or I'm going to have to stun you," Harry said, brandishing his wand threateningly. Hermione looked at him, glaring but worked to slow her rapid breathing. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to take a shower and get dressed. Then all three of us are going to go to your office and you're going to quit. Is that understood?"

"I don't need a body guard Harry," Hermione pointed out, starting to realize things were not going to go back to normal very quickly. "I'm not a child."

"Herms, that's not what Harry meant at all," Ron soothed. "We just want to be with you as much as possible. Plus, if this prick has added to your obvious unhappiness I might want to, you know." Ron made a series of vivid hand gestures that made both Harry and Hermione raise their eyebrows.

"Okay, just give me a second alright? We'll have to stop by the pub too."

"Why?" Harry asked before Ron could stop him. "You in need of a pint?" Hermione blushed and shook her head.

"It's my other job." Harry fell silent and stared at his shoes. It wasn't so much that Hermione had two jobs. It was that she seemed so unlike herself and that she had settled for not just one job she didn't like, but two. Hermione escaped into the bathroom with her newly found bag. She emerged ten minutes later looking reasonably put together. She wore a knee length floral skirt, a white t-shirt and a green sweater with a stain on the sleeve and a small tear on the left shoulder. She smoothed her hair self consciously.

"So I'll lead you there yeah?"

"Why don't we ap-" Harry began, quickly cut off by Ron's fervent head shaking.

"We'll take the bus," Hermione ordered, stepping out onto the street, wrapping her coat around her. Ron and Harry quickly took either of her arms as she led them to the bus stop around the corner. She had been to the hotel several times for her company's annual Christmas party. They got there just as the bus was pulling up and boarded. Hermione dropped a couple of coins into the box; frugality no longer seemed important. The three settled into a row near the back. "So, Harry, how did Remus meet Agatha Chubb?"

"Oh, they met at Flourish and Blotts oddly enough. They reached out for the same book at the same time and the rest is history. They really seem to suit each other, though it is rather hard to get either of them to do anything when there's a library available to them. You'd, you'll really like her Herms."

"I'm sure I will. We'll be there in a couple of minutes. It's not a terribly large town." The next few minutes proved Hermione right and the three found themselves facing a gray, depressing building. Hermione took a deep breath before walking forward. She walked slowly to the reception desk where Martha Thomas sat, filing her long, red nails.

"Hello Martha," she greeted nervously, flanked on either side by Ron and Harry.

"Oh, Mr. Lehman's right pissed at you isn't he. An hour late, well I never. I didn't think you'd have the guts to even show your face. I'd have just waited for my last check. Who are these men?" she asked, her vindictive tone changing to one that was both high pitched and saccharine sweet.

"Oh, this is Ron Weasley and he's Harry Potter. They're old friends. Harry, Ron, this is Martha Thomas."

"Pleased to meet you," Martha extended her hand and smiled suggestively.

"Will you two wait here? I'll be only a moment." Harry and Ron nodded hesitantly, partly out of protectiveness and partly from the sheer horror of being left alone with Martha. "Good, thank you." Hermione pushed through the double doors to the right of the reception desk. Mr. Lehman was standing at the water cooler, a small cup of water in his hand. When he caught sight of Hermione, his face turned bright red.

"GRANGER!" he yelled. Heads popped up over cubicles and Hermione looked to the floor, examining her tattered Mary Janes. "How dare you come back here? I was left in the lurch this morning wasn't I. Have you any explanation?"

"Well sir, I'm leaving town. . .today. I've come in to offer my resignation from this post," Hermione said quickly, not looking up at Mr. Lehman's now purple face with his shaking jowls and cold blue stare.

"Your resignation?" He then splashed Hermione with the water in his cup. "You ungrateful little slag-" he wasn't able to finish his tirade though as Harry and Ron burst through the door.

"You bloody bastard!" Ron exclaimed, stepping between Mr. Lehman and Hermione. "She's quitting this horrible job that didn't even pay enough to keep her in her apartment, by the way. You say one more word to her and you'll find yourself without a few functioning parts."

"Yes, I'd watch yourself," Harry added. "Hermione, do you have anything here you need to collect?" Hermione shook her head.

"Good, good day to you _sir,_" Ron grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her out of the office. "I think it would be best if you just wrote your other boss a letter yeah?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione nodded, batting away a few stray tears. "Good, we'll just swing by your apartment to collect your things and tell your landlord you'll no longer be there."

A couple of hours later, Hermione found herself in Harry and Ron's small London flat. She had Crookshanks in her arms and Harry and Ron stood behind her, two boxes of her shrunk, scant belongings sitting on the floor at their feet. "Welcome back Herms, your home."

_"I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up  
Your strength is enough  
So have a little faith in me  
I said hey baby oh baby  
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me  
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me"_

A/N: I'm in the middle of the next chapter of Heir but I found seven pages of this written in my computer at home. I know it's inordinately long but it does give a couple hints about what's going to happen next in Heir. I hope you liked it and appreciate that, aside from Mr. Lehman and Martha, all the characters are completely canon. R&R!!!!!! Happy belated Christmas and a very Prosperous New Year!


	2. Dealing with Demons

Disclaimer: Same old drill: all of the characters belong to JK Rowling except Emily Hipworth; she's half mine, half JK's and maybe another nameless character of little significance. The plot, for the most part, is mine. The song for this chapter is "Hold You in My Arms" by Ray LaMontagne. Enjoy and REVIEW!

"_When you came to me with your bad dreams and your fears  
It was easy to see you'd been crying  
Seems like everywhere you turn catastrophe it reigns  
But who really profits from the dying"_

Hermione felt herself shudder and then she was awake, staring out at the vague, black outlines of a room she couldn't quite place. Her face was hot and moist with tears and she felt oddly out of breath. Afraid that her dream might flood back and overpower her, she fumbled for a light. With a flick of the lamp switch, the room became illuminated; she was in Ron's room. It was small and the walls were painted in strips of blue and gray. A white dresser stood opposite the bed on the facing wall next to which was the door to the lavatory. It was surprisingly tidy for one inhabited by such a slob.

She shivered at the cold breeze coming from the cracked windows, out of which she could hear the bustle of early morning London. Brushing away her tears, Hermione picked up her watch which sat on the bedside table. It was only 5:00; there was no chance either Harry or Ron would be up for at least a couple more hours, and that was if they'd undergone a significant change in the four years she'd been gone. Sleep, however, was not an option as she might have to revisit the nightmare which had woken her. She could still see the blank stares of her dead parents as vividly as the day they had died. Running her hand through her tangled curls she decided she needed a bath, a nice, long soak in the tub.

"_I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold you forever  
I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold you forever"_

With a tired groan, she pushed herself out of bed and stumbled to the lavatory, grabbing the towel Ron had left for her on the dresser. Ginny and or Mrs. Weasley must have done the decorating for she had never known Ron to be able to match his socks let alone the color pallet of a whole room. The bathroom matched the bedroom in color scheme; the blue covered all four walls, leaving the gray to the ceiling. A gleaming, white tub sat in the middle of the room. She started the tap before looking around for soap. Finding a bright purple bottle, she examined the label: **_From the Granddaughter of the Man Who Brought You the Pepper-Up Potion: Emily Hipworth's Rise and Shine Bath Salts—Guaranteed to Put a Spring in Your Step! _**Liking the sound of this, Hermione emptied half the bottle into the nearly full tub. She turned off the faucets and pulled off the over-sized T-shirt Ron had lent her.

The bath salts were definitely . . . strong but Hermione got used to them, relaxing against the smooth back of the tub and closing her eyes. She must have dozed off for when she woke the water was tepid and the salts had fizzled out. She ducked under the cool water, enjoying the shiver that zipped up her spine. She massaged some of Ron's shampoo into her hair, making sure to fully saturate herself in his scent.

Hermione was nearly done when she heard the distant sound of a doorbell. She tried to ignore it but after five minutes of persistent ringing, she decided that if the door was to be answered, she would have to do it. She grabbed the towel and stepped out of the tub. She wrapped the towel securely around herself before moving out of the lavatory. On her way out of the bedroom, she pulled on Ron's white bathrobe. She first went to the door and looked out the tiny peephole. No one was there and besides, the noise didn't seem to be coming from the door anyway. She looked around, utterly perplexed.

The living room was quite empty in fact. Ron had decided to sleep in the study instead of on the couch. This was the main reason Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at what happened next. A disembodied voice spoke out in the semidarkness. "No, no, it's not the doorbell! It's the floo bell. Do you see that button on the right side of the mantle?"

"Who are you?"

"Oh, I suppose I should have told you shouldn't I have? Well, it's Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."

"Oh," Hermione said blankly.

"I'm sorry I startled you but could you push that button? It's a bit cramped in here," Sirius coaxed a bit irritably.

"Right, sorry." Hermione found the button and pushed it. A moment later, a very sooty Sirius tumbled out of the hearth. He straightened up, brushing the grime off of his jeans and t-shirt. He looked much better and younger than he had during the war. He had shaved his beard and wore his hair cropped around his ears. He had added a silver earring in his ear as well as a pair of frame-less glasses.

"I'm sorry but who are you? I don't believe I've seen you here before." Sirius asked, studying her closely. Hermione blushed and pulled the bathrobe closer.

"That's probably because I haven't been here before," she answered honestly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to put on some clothes."

"Alright I suppose but you wouldn't happen to know where Harry is by any chance?"

"In his bedroom I suspect, why?"

"Well, you see, as I said before, I'm his godfather and we were supposed to meet for supper yesterday and he never showed up. When I tried to floo him he-well, I don't suppose you're very interested are you?"

Hermione shrugged, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable. "I'll be in Ron's room." She turned on her heal and returned to Ron's bedroom to find some clothes. She began sorting through the now normal sized boxes for anything to wear; it was slim pickings. She finally decided on a pair of baggy grey corduroy trousers and an oversized cream sweater she'd found at a car boot sale. By the time she'd pulled on her clothes, she heard a yelp from Harry's room. She opened the door and stepped out, interested to see what was going on.

Sirius pulled Harry by the arm out into the living room. Harry had his blanket wrapped around himself and was looking at Sirius in groggy anger. "Bloody hell Sirius! I'm not thirteen."

"Don't pull out that rubbish Harry. You didn't leave me so much as a note; I've been trying to reach you for the past ten hours and here you are, sleeping like nothing's happened."

"I'm sorry, I just forgot about dinner alright? I don't have to pass everything I do by you anymore do I?"

"I didn't say you did but how would you feel if you were supposed to meet Ron and he didn't show up and then basically disappeared off the face of the earth all night and you couldn't get hold of him? Hmm? Answer me that Harry."

"That's not the point is it?"

"Of course it's the point Harry! You've still got a string of extremely dangerous individuals on your tail who would like nothing more than to-"

"Spare me Sirius; you're starting to sound more and more like Mad Eye."

"Just tell me Harry, what was so important that you had to drive me to an early grave?" Harry didn't answer immediately but instead looked down at the carpet. "Well?"

"Sirius, we, well Ron, he found Hermione."

"Oh," Sirius collapsed on the couch, a look of fatigue sweeping over his youthful features. "Where?"

"Some little town in Scotland. Ron flooed me yesterday morning and I left as soon as I heard. Everything else just-"

"Oh, no, I completely understand. Where is she?" Harry then caught Hermione's eye who was staring at the two, one hand pushing her sopping curls from her face. "Behind you," he murmured, pointing at Hermione who then wanted to disappear into the wall. Sirius' head spun around, his mouth dropping at the sight of her.

"You-you're Hermione? Why didn't you say something?" he asked, standing up and crossing the floor till they're toes fell mere centimeters from each other. Hermione shrugged casting her eyes to the ground. "Well, you've certainly changed." Hermione had a feeling he was not merely remarking on her physical appearance. "I'll be going then. Harry, you should floo Ginny; she wasn't in an incredibly charitable mood when I talked to her last night."

"Will do, oh, Sirius," Harry began, casting a furtive glance at Hermione. "Don't tell anyone Hermione's here, at least not for a while."

"Okay but I wouldn't hope to keep her a secret for more than a couple of days, not with Ron's family."

"Right, give my best to Hestia."

"Oh, I will and Harry, I'd send a word Remus' way too; you know how that werewolf gets when he's worried." Harry nodded and Sirius stepped into the hearth. Once he was gone, Harry and Hermione were left alone, starring at one another.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that. Things haven't changed as much as I would have liked. Do you want some breakfast?" Hermione nodded though she really didn't feel like eating. "Okay, I can make eggs and toast but that's pretty much it."

"Oh, I'll help you. Just let me brush my hair." Harry nodded and Hermione went back into Ron's bedroom. When she emerged, her hair was tied in a loose knot behind her head. Without a wand to tame her locks, they still tended to become a bush. Harry was already in the kitchen, heating up a skillet with his wand. "I was thinking we'd go to Diagon Alley today to get you a replacement wand. You can't really function without one for much longer."

"Yeah, I don't suppose I can," Hermione answered. She didn't know quite what to make of her emotions. On one hand, she was deathly afraid of rejoining the magical world after being away so long. The reasons why she had left might have dulled slightly over the years but they were still there. On the other hand, she felt a rush of excitement at again being able to hold a wand in her hand, to do a spell.

The two worked silently, Harry busying himself with scrambled eggs and Hermione whipping up a batch of pancake batter she'd learned from her Aunt Ellie. Ron came out just as Hermione was putting the first pancake onto the magically heated griddle. "Well doesn't this make a lovely picture," he yawned, leaning against the doorframe. He made quite a pretty picture himself, Hermione thought, his hair splaying out in all directions and wearing a very wrinkled t-shirt over equally wrinkled boxer shorts.

"Look who's up, and before seven to boot!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm surprised all the ruckus didn't rouse you."

"You've forgotten I lived with Fred and George for fifteen years."

"Yes, I suppose I see your point," Harry chuckled, turning back to the eggs.

"How did you sleep Herms? I see you're a bit farther along than Harry and I are." Ron asked, looking Hermione up and down. He thought the look suited her fine but also mused that a nice, tight set of robes would do nicely as well.

"_When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions  
My worried mind that you quiet  
Place your hands on my face  
Close my eyes and say  
That love is a poor man's food  
Don't prophesize" _

"I slept okay I suppose. I woke up fairly early," Hermione answered, blushing at Ron's persistent gaze.

"What can I do to he-" Ron was interrupted by a cool, automated voice echoing through the house: "Incoming Floo: Ms. Ginevra Weasley, mood: very angry." Ron and Harry winced and Hermione looked bewildered. Technology had certainly advanced in her four year absence. A few moments later, they heard a thud as Ginny tumbled out of the grate.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she screamed, her stamping feet echoing through the flat. "YOU BETTER HAVE QUITE AN EXPLANAION; NOW WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?"

"Ron, would you mind finishing the eggs?" Harry asked, his face pale. Had Hermione not been still trying to figure out how the intercom worked, she might have been tickled by the looks on Harry's and Ron's faces. Ron took control of the eggs and Harry hastened out of the room, casting a silencing charm on his way out.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine once he tells her what's happened; she's missed you quite a lot as well," Ron murmured, casting her an encouraging look. She nodded. It was true, she and Ginny had become much closer over the latter years of the war and she had missed the red head almost as much as she'd missed Ron and Harry. They only had to wait a few seconds before Ginny darted into the kitchen and threw her arms around Hermione, causing her to drop the pancake she was flipping onto the floor.

"Oh Hermione, I've missed you so much," Ginny exclaimed, batting tears away after finally releasing her. "You're so thin! Mum's going to have a fit!"

"About that Gin," Ron began. "We want to keep Hermione's homecoming a bit of a secret for a while."

"Good luck with that," Ginny scoffed. "Oh, don't worry; I won't tell but I wouldn't expect to keep it a secret for long, not with Mum around."

"Even so, we'd like to hold out as long as possible."

"Okay, Mum's the word," Ginny grinned, looping her arm around Hermione's waist. "We really need to get you into some better clothes." Hermione, forgetting herself momentarily, rolled her eyes. "No really Hermione, you've gotten yourself into a right slump and I do think a good bit of shopping could do the trick!"

"Then it's decided," Harry chimed in, grinning from ear to ear (mostly because his girlfriend hadn't castrated him). "As soon as we finish with breakfast and Ron and I get a chance to clean up a bit, we'll all go to Diagon Alley."

"Yes and then," Ginny added. "Hermione and I will head into muggle London for _real _shopping. In the mean time, I'll dodge over to my flat and get some suitable clothes for you Mimi." Hermione winced at the ill-conceived, seldom used nickname, coined by Ginny at Harry's seventeenth birthday party. "I am so glad to have you back," Ginny squealed in a rare show of girly giddiness. After giving Hermione a final squeeze, and Harry a peck on the cheek, Ginny disappeared through the grate.

Hermione, though still uneasy, found herself in a much better mood as the three sat down to breakfast. She even, at Ron and Harry's coaxing, ate a second helping of eggs and toast. While Ron and Harry were getting ready, Ginny returned, her arms full of brightly colored garments. "I would have brought you a pair of robes but it's hardly the fashion anymore," Ginny explained, handing the clothes to Hermione who looked at them skeptically. "Come on, we'll go into the Study. Ron's in the bedroom isn't he?" Hermione nodded and allowed herself to be lead into the small study. Ginny made her try on all of the clothes before deciding on a pair of Kelly green cropped trousers and a thin white, short sleeved button-down shirt that clung tightly to Hermione's skin after a skillful wave of Ginny's wand. "Here's a jumper in case you get cold," Ginny added, handing the light green article. She then handed her a pair of brown sandals before standing back to admire her work.

"What do you think?" asked Hermione blushing and shifting her weight uneasily.

"You look lovely except for your hair. Let it down please." Hermione did as she was told and Ginny studied her closely, tapping her chin with the tip of her wand. "Alright," she murmured, before pointing her wand at Hermione's head and whispering a spell. Hermione's frizz fell immediately into soft waves. "Perfect! Sometimes I amaze even myself." Hermione laughed despite herself. "Now you must look at yourself," Ginny ordered, leading her out of the room to the mirror above the mantle. Hermione had to admit it was a large improvement, not that it would have been difficult to improve on what she'd looked like before.

"Are you two ready yet?" Ginny yelled. "Honestly, the two of them are like school girls sometimes," she muttered, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Yes," Harry replied, stepping out of his bedroom showered and with a clean, blue shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. "You look lovely Hermione, really," he grinned before kissing Ginny gently on the cheek. "You too," he added as Ginny shot him a mock glare. "Come on Ron, we haven't got all day have we?" Harry hollered good naturedly.

"I'll be out in a minute alright," Ron shot through the door irritably. Harry rolled his eyes. The three waited for another five minutes before Ron emerged looking rather smart, at least that's what Hermione thought. At the sight of Hermione, Ron merely smiled softly, knowingly. "Now that's more like it," he said, grinning and playfully punching Hermione's arm.

"_I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold on forever  
And I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold on forever"_

"Are we ready to go?" Ron asked, not taking his eyes off Hermione.

"Yes," was the exasperated reply from Harry and Ginny. Hermione nodded, blushing at Ron's persistent gaze.

"Okay, okay. I didn't take that long," Ron shot back, the grin not leaving his face. The four flooed to the Leaky Cauldron which was not yet full with the lunch crowd.

'First to Olivander's," Harry directed, walking in the direction of the old wizard's shop.

"Out of curiosity, did they ever find Mr. Olivander?" Hermione asked softly, working hard to keep pace with Ron's long strides. She was at least a head shorter than he was now and was the shortest of the group by a few inches. Harry shook his head.

"After the war ended, his nephew, I don't quite know his name, took over. I actually haven't been in there since," Ron answered matter-o-factly. Hermione nodded. Once there, the group stepped inside and a fairly young man with brown hair stepped out from behind the counter. Something in his face was remnant of his uncle, that same unsettling gaze.

"How may I help you?" he asked, rubbing his hands briskly and looking at each in turn. If he knew who they were (which he almost certainly would) he didn't show it.

"We, or rather, Hermione, needs a replacement wand," Harry answered before he could stop himself. Ron winced but Hermione didn't really care. She could feel the magic emanating from all corners of the room and it gave her an unnerving sensation, part ecstasy and part anxiety.

"Alright. Let's just do it the old fashion way and try out a few. Which is your wand hand m'am?"

"My right," Hermione answered absently, still looking around at the innumerable boxes. She held out her arm and let the man measure it.

"What was your original wand?" he asked, not looking up.

"It was vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core," Hermione answered immediately. She was slightly surprised she remembered at all. He nodded and walked over to the shelves, pulling down a dozen slender boxes. Her hands trembled as she picked up the first. He rattled off the make but she was focused only on the reawakening of the power inside her. Before she felt she was ready, he snatched the wand out of her hand and shoved another into her grip. She went through ten before she felt it, a warmth spreading up her arm. She gasped, examining it.

"Alright, that will be 8 galleons. Do you want it wrapped up?" he asked. Hermione shook her head slowly, focusing on her hand. Harry paid, shooting a grin over his shoulder at Hermione.

"Come on Herms," Ron coaxed, leading her out into the sunlight. She blinked, coming out of her reverie. "Glad to have you back."

"Yeah, it's good to be back," she answered, grinning. "How about Flourish and Blotts?" she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You might want to rethink your previous statement," Harry pointed out. Hermione started toward the bookstore, leaving her three comrades standing outside Olivander's.

"Oy, Mimi! We can go to the bookstore another day. We've got clothes shopping to do," Ginny called after her. Hermione let out a sigh and turned around, facing Ginny. "Oh come on, it'll be fun!" Ginny exclaimed.

"How about we catch lunch fi-" Harry began but was cut off by a barking voice that Hermione vaguely recognized.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Harry winced and hesitantly turned to face an extremely irate Remus Lupin tailed by a tall, curvy brunette.

"Hello Remus," Harry greeted, casting his eyes to the ground. When Remus caught up to Harry he embraced him tightly, dropping the bag of books he had had in his hands. Harry, thrown off guard, patted the werewolf on the back.

"Don't you ever do that to me again. I thought you'd been kidnapped or that you were lying in a ditch somewhere or-"

"I'm sorry Remus, really I am but you're cutting off my circulation." Harry managed to get out. Remus, blushing stepped away. What happened next surprised Harry even more. Remus grabbed hold of Harry's ear, pinching tightly. "Oy, bloody hell!"

"Tell me where you were that you had to send me to an early grave."

"My god you're like Sirius." Remus pinched harder causing Harry to yell out in pain. "Okay, okay I'll-" Ron cleared his throat loudly. Remus turned to him, his usually gentle eyes narrowed.

"Would you care to tell me where the two of you were?" Ron blushed, looking down at the ground. "Well someone is going to damn well tell me," he ordered, eyeing each of the group members in turn, finally falling on Hermione. His eyes narrowed and Hermione blushed. "Hermione?" he asked, blinking a couple of times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. She nodded mutely. He let go of Harry's ear and pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. The wall that she had built up around her emotions came crashing down as she returned the embrace. He felt so much like her father, the same slender torso, the same long arms. So, there in the middle of Diagon Alley, with Remus' fiancé, Harry, Ginny, and Ron watching, she cried. She cried for her mother, her father, Dumbledore, Olivander, Ron, Harry, Neville, everyone before finally, she cried for herself.

"_So now we see how it is  
This fist begets the spear  
Weapons of war  
Symptoms of madness  
Don't let your eyes refuse to see   
Don't let your ears refuse to hear  
Or you ain't never going to shake this sense of sadness"_

She and Ginny did eventually go shopping, accompanied by Agatha. After a long lunch in a sunny café, they had romped around muggle London, collecting a seemingly unending supply of brightly colored garments. Agatha, or Aggie as she preferred to be called, turned out to be just as fascinating as Hermione had imagined. It was well passed dinner by the time they got back to Harry and Ron's flat. Remus and Agatha left soon after, Remus casting her a knowing, sympathetic look on his way out to which she grinned weakly. Harry accompanied Ginny to her flat soon after. That left Hermione on the couch next to Ron who couldn't seem to keep his eyes on the television.

"What?" Hermione asked finally, smiling softly. She felt much better after her cry. The ache in her heart was still strong, still huge but, somehow, it seemed easier, the more people she had with whom to share it.

"You look very pretty Herms," Ron answered, blushing. He wrapped a finger in one of her curls.

"Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself."

"Thanks, Herms?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you mean it when you kissed me in Scotland?" Hermione turned to him, running a finger across his jaw line. She nodded.

"I meant it when I told you I loved you too," she whispered. "Ron, you don't have to hide me. We both know it's not worth the trouble. Remus, Sirius, Agatha, and probably Hestia too, they all know."

"I know it's selfish but I wasn't just protecting you. I kind of liked having you to myself, Harry doesn't really count."

"You can have me anytime you please," Hermione answered back quickly, not catching the double entendre till it was already out of her mouth. Ron blushed and chuckled nervously.

"Thanks."

"Ron?"

"Yes Herms?"  
"Just sit with me for a while yeah?" Ron nodded and lifted his arm, allowing Hermione into his embrace. She snuggled up to his shirt, her head resting on his reclining torso. The pain was slowly but surely being divided cut in half again and again . . . and again.

"_I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold on forever  
and I could hold you in my arms  
I could hold on forever"_

A/N: Okay, so that was your super long, smultzy early Valentine's Day present from me. REVIEW PLEASE!!!! If you didn't catch the latest chappie of Heir of Moons, please do! There are a few things in this story that won't make sense till I finish that story. Cheers! –Elle


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